The Biologist Visits Her Fruit Flies

I went with my roommate to the science building - that strange land I've never understood - and found poetry. So that'll teach me.

In the lab, I dip a wire in poison to feed the fruit flies.

Their sleep looks just like dying. Comatose, they cannot protest

when I brush them over to determine their genitals.

 

Hey boy, hey girl. Hey crossbreeds and mutations. I've missed you.

Have you missed me too? My high heels clacking the tiles?

My eyeliner piercing the peephole microscope?

 

In the lab I catch myself staring at my 90-year-old self

in the glass of a boxed contraption. Uplifted from the weight

of 21-year-old worries, she has wrinkles nonetheless. She sags

 

beneath the glare of my youth. Is this what I believe? When I have

a lover in my bed, and yet look over his shoulder at someone

else? I am afraid I love too much. And not enough.

 

Too bright, a sun or two is not enough to highlight your organs.

Give me a moment. I've been away, but I will feed you

from my own lack, so you will lack too.

Author's Note

Any ideas to make the ending stronger? Second to last line is a little bland.

Reviews

[Distant horizons]

I like it just the way it is. Very unique perspective. Onloy suggestion I can think of is to change feed to nourish, but then, that takes away from the lack in the last line.